


The Replacement Date

by britsmit28



Series: Modern AU Trissefer [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Triss Merigold, Bisexual Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Modern AU, Modern Era, One Shot, POV Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Past Tissaia/Yennefer, Short & Sweet, Triss Tops!, Yennefer loves praise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26964331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britsmit28/pseuds/britsmit28
Summary: Based on an 'AU' prompt list:On a Friday night after finishing up her usual post-workweek drinks, Yennefer notices Triss sitting alone at a table in the same restaurant. Rumors have circulated and it seems Triss' date stood her up. Wanting to end the redhead's embarrassment, Yennefer intervenes and vows to make Triss forget about the loser who failed to show up. But as the night progress, Yennefer finds herself growing closer to Triss and what was supposed to be a simple date, leads to a much stronger connection and a chance for Yennefer to find love again.Note: This is not affiliated with my normal 'Trissefer Collection' stories!
Relationships: Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Modern AU Trissefer [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087949
Comments: 21
Kudos: 87





	The Replacement Date

**Author's Note:**

> I came across [this list of AU prompts](https://perfectlyrose.tumblr.com/post/101118660910/au-prompts-masterlist-of-lists) and wanted to write more Trissefer stories. 
> 
> The specific prompt I chose for this piece is this: "Stood up by your date so someone just sits down and pretends they’re your date so that people stop throwing you pitying looks and it ends up being a great date” 
> 
> Enjoy!

Yennefer groans, shifting on the cushioned barstool until she’s comfortable again. Her lower back throbs in mild protest from the past few hours she spent hunched over the reflective cherrywood counter as she prepped for her latest case. The court had recessed for the weekend, giving the dark haired woman plenty of time to review the evidence, witness statements and detective notes before she presented the main points of her argument Monday morning. But her vision is beginning to blur from her uninterrupted reading and the two whiskey colas she nursed. Finishing off the last dregs of her second drink, Yennefer straightens and stretches her arms above her head. 

“All done for the night Ms. Vengerberg?” Priscilla is there, polishing a small tumbler before setting it on one of the floating shelves behind the bar. The bartenders’ blonde hair sways in a ponytail behind her as she turns to clean away Yennefer’s now empty glass. 

“Yes, I think it’s time I head home.” Yennefer sets her leather briefcase on the counter and stores her notes, legal pads and folders inside in an orderly fashion. She hopes to squeeze in another hour of trial prep before she sleeps. And after the long week she’s had, she thinks she deserves to don her most comfortable pajamas before stretching out on the sofa to continue her work. “I’ll see you next week.”

“I’ll be here. Good luck with your trial.” Priscilla’s grin grows as Yennefer places two twenties on the counter. The drinks at _The Dancing Lute Bistro_ are cheap compared to the other high end restaurants on this side of Novigrad. But Yennefer and Priscilla have established a good rapport over the year the dark haired woman frequented the restaurant on Friday nights. Priscilla had a heavy pouring hand and Yennefer liked the extra smooth burn that slid down her throat and expanded across her body. On the rare slow nights, Yennefer ran through several opening arguments, wanting Priscilla’s advice. Most nights, the blonde knows what drink to pour just by the slightest glance as Yennefer enters through the side entrance. There is a warm comradery to their bartender/patron relationship and Yennefer wants Priscilla to know how much she’s appreciated. 

“ _Pssst_. Pri! Pour me another Sprite, will ya?”

Both Priscilla and Yennefer look at the auburn haired girl who leans on the bar’s corner. She’s one of the many waitresses who works in the main dining area. Wisps of dark brown hair frame her round face and she chews the corner of her mouth, absentmindedly tugging at her rolled up shirt sleeve. 

“She’s still there?” Priscilla asks, pulling out a tall glass and filling it with ice. 

“Been there for nearly an hour. Swears her date will show up any minute. She keeps checking her phone, but nothing.”

“Poor girl.” Priscilla slides the drink down to the waitress, who takes it and walks through the open archway. The bartender sucks her teeth, frowning as she once again begins to polish a glass. “It sucks.”

“What does?” Yennefer asks as she slips into her tailored suit jacket. 

“Some girl is being stood up. It’s a shame really. She’s a pretty girl.”

“It happens.”

“Yeah it does. Still, the bastard should have said something to her. Apparently people are starting to notice and whisper.”

Yennefer takes several steps to the side until she’s able to peer into the main dining room. Most of the tables are filled with chatting couples or small clusters of families. Her heart squeezes for a moment as her dark blue eyes land on a family of three near the center of the room. But she shakes her head to clear any memories of the past before they can settle and continues her search. An older woman with light grey hair casts a pitying look over her shoulder and Yennefer follows the woman’s gaze until she sees a lone figure at one of the tables. 

Priscilla is right. The girl, young woman really, is very pretty. With fiery red hair that is split down the middle and placed into two matching buns, her pale face is bathed in a soft blue light as she focuses on the phone in her hands. Her fingers fly across the screen and she bites down on her bottom lip with such force Yennefer worries she may break skin. She wears a simple dress that’s white with brightly colored floral patterns across it and a v-shaped neckline that reveals a bit of cleavage. From this distance, Yennefer cannot determine the woman’s eye color, but she can see them moving frantically around as the woman notices more and more stares being cast in her direction. Yennefer returns to her corner of the bar, guilt rising in her as she realizes she’s becoming part of the crowd that’s silently pitying the woman. 

“She should leave while she can,” Yennefer says. 

“She has hope. Which is nice, if a bit foolish.”

“She’s young. We grow out of it.” Yennefer guesses the woman is four or five years her junior, a late-twenty something who still has much to learn about life. 

Priscilla doesn’t look at her as she nods. “Still, I wish there was a way to end her misery.” 

“The best remedy for that is a tub of ice cream, a favorite movie and the battery-powered toy in the nightstand.”

“My, my. I’m mildly shocked by that admission,” Priscillas says, chuckling.

Yennefer shrugs and gathers up her briefcase. “I find little appeal in dating. Especially after my divorce.”

Priscilla opens her mouth to say something and just as quickly closes it. Yennefer’s grateful. It’s been a year since the ink dried on the paperwork, officially severing her legal connection to Geralt. Though they can never fully rid themselves of the other. Not with Ciri depended on them. So they are still tethered together in that one way. Yennefer works hard to stifle her emotional connection to her ex-husband. She admits it’s difficult relinquishing her grasp on a relationship that began when she was in her twenties. 

Priscilla knew of the once husband and the divorce. But Yennefer never delved into the depths of their relationship or the action that drove her to leave. She likes talking to Priscilla, but knows she can’t bring up Geralt without getting misty eyed or weepy. 

“Would you try dating again?” Priscilla asks. “Once you feel ready?”

“Are you asking me out?” Yennefer says, smirking.

“Sadly no. I’m afraid women don’t do it for me. I’m just curious about whether you would go out with someone or try to find a new companion.”

Yennefer tips her head to the side, thinking of a response. There were other men and women before Geralt. But he was the only one she considered settling down with. Now that he isn’t around, Yennefer’s unsure what she wants. “Possibly. Depends.”

“On what?”

“If they can make me forget the bitterness I hold towards my ex.”

“I’m assuming it’s a tremendous feat,” Priscilla says. Yennefer answers with a shrug. “Well I hope someone comes along one day.”

“I appreciate that.” She scoops up her things and closes her jacket tight around her to prepare for the biting cold that waits on the other side of the door. Casting one final look into the dining room, Yennefer sees the young woman bite back a sob or hiccup. Something twists within her, but she ignores it and waves goodbye to Priscilla. 

The parking lot is nearly full and she fiddles with her phone, searching for the app that’s connected to her car. She hears her engine roar to life, bright headlights illuminating the brick wall in front of it. Yennefer tosses her briefcase in the passenger seat and sits with a long exhale as the car warms. Listening to the smooth jazz that flows out the speakers, she thinks about the young woman sitting alone inside the restaurant. 

She and Geralt had their problems. But at least he was always decent enough to call if he was running late or couldn’t make it. And Yennefer had a slew of bad dates before she met her eventual ex-husband. There were hazy nights at a bar where young men used the packed room to their advantage to feel up her breast or ass. Some were even bold enough to reach around her waist and cup her between the legs. Then there was the date with a man she met at the gym. He seemed nice until he threatened to break his chair over the server’s head for daring to look Yennefer in the eye as she placed her order. There were dates that went so well she took them home, only to have them fall asleep on top of her after a few strokes. 

She was no stranger to terrible dates. But she has never experienced a no show before. (Though there were plenty of times where she wished the guy had called in sick.)

Yennefer eyes her briefcase, imagining the mundane evening that she repeated every Friday evening in her post-divorce life. Trial notes. A glass of merlot. Two day old leftovers. The heavy silence of her apartment since Ciri is with her father. It would end as it usually does, with Yennefer’s hand working fervently between her legs until she reaches her peak and falls asleep. 

In her twenties, the mundane frightened her. It’s why she dragged her feet on marrying Geralt. She was afraid of being tied down, of committing to one person for the rest of her life. But she adjusted to the mundane, especially when Ciri arrived. Yennefer found comfort and safety in the pre-planned. She adored the domesticity of her married life. Living mundanely wasn’t so bad when she was around others. 

But now she hates repetition. Finds it stifling. Lonely. 

She glances back at the restaurant, coming to a decision within seconds. 

Turning off her car, she slips her wallet into her pants’ pocket and mentally prepares herself for the chilly air once more. She bypasses the side entrance that leads to the bar, hoping to avoid Priscilla’s curious gaze and instead walks to the main entrance off 22nd Street. Exhaling as the heat hits her upon entry, Yennefer pauses to look inside the dining room area. The young woman is still seated at the table. Alone. 

“Ah! Ms. Vengerberg,” the hostess greets. “Will you be dining with us as well?”

“I’m actually meeting someone and I see her over there.” She doesn’t glance at the hostess, but senses the confusion coming from the woman. Yennefer walks confidently into the dining room, her chin raised high, her gaze never leaving the young woman. She’s vaguely aware of people taking notice as she draws closer to her destination. Their stares embolden her, fill with a sense of rightness in a way. This isn’t her mistake to remedy and yet she’s determined to fix it. When she’s only a few tables away, she smiles as wide as she can and lifts a hand in greeting. “Hi! I’m so terribly sorry. I know I’m late. Abysmally so, but I’m here now and I hope you will forgive me.”

This catches the young woman’s attention. She looks at Yennefer with brilliant green eyes, confusion scrawled across her features. Yennefer’s step falters for a brief moment. The young woman isn’t pretty. She’s gorgeous, stunningly so. The dark haired woman wonders what daft person would ever consider abandoning such a beautiful woman. But she regains her focus as the young woman opens her mouth to say something that would likely ruin this whole ruse. Rushing to the edge of the table, Yennefer stoops and brushes her lips across the woman’s cheek in a chaste kiss. 

“Just go with it. It’ll be fine,” she says in a hurried breath before pulling back. She speaks in her normal voice once more so others can hear. “Traffic was terrible and I know that’s not an excuse and that I should have called or sent a text or something. But I’m glad you’re still here. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

The woman gapes at her, still trying to understand what’s happening and how she should respond. Yennefer drapes her jacket over the back of the chair and sits, leaning across the table to grasp the woman’s hand. She’s pleasantly surprised at the soft skin and without much thought, swipes her thumb across the back of the woman’s hand. She stares back at the redhead with her best earnest and remorseful expression, which snaps the woman out of her stupor. 

“I’m glad you _finally_ decided to show up. Though it’s a bad way to start a first date,” she says. 

“I know,” Yennefer says, squeezing their joined hands. “I’m truly sorry. I swear I’ll make it up to you.” 

The redhead notices the small audience that’s captivated by their conversation. She smiles at Yennefer, gratitude flashing across her face. “You’re paying for dessert.”

“Done.”

That singular word breaks the spell. It feels as though the entire restaurant takes a collective sigh of relief before turning back to their meals and own conversation. The redhead looks at their hands and Yennefer slowly pulls hers back, missing the warmth already. “Thank you for taking pity on me,” the redhead says in a whisper. Though there’s no need. She brings a finger to the corner of her eye and wipes away a tear. “I feel terrible.”

“You shouldn’t. Whatever fool decided not to show is the terrible one here. I’m Yennefer Vengerburg by the way.”

“Triss. Triss Merigold.”

Yennefer repeats it in her mind several times until she’s certain it’s safe within her memories. “Well Triss as I said, I’m here now and I intend to make you forget about the person whose spot I’m currently filling.” She feels a cozy warmth in her chest when Triss smiles shyly at her. 

“I’d like that Yennefer.”

The server arrives and stares wide-eyed at Yennefer. The dark haired woman looks back at her through slightly narrowed slits, practically daring her to blow the lie. The girl swallows back her original comment and plasters on a customer friendly smile. “I see your date arrived.”

“Yes. I was caught in traffic,” Yennefer says. 

“Well I’ll give you time to glance over the menu.”

Yennefer imagines Triss is starving and hates to make her wait much longer. “No need. Why don’t you order first,” she says, gesturing towards the woman across from her. “I’ll have my selection by then. Remind me: are you a wine drinker?”

“I am.”

“White or red?”

“White.”

“Mind if I order a bottle for us?”

Triss shakes her head. “Go right ahead.” She faces the waitress and orders the baked chicken with rosemary lemon sauce, mashed potatoes and charred broccolini. 

“I’ll take the salmon filet with mashed cauliflower and roasted asparagus. And a bottle of whatever unoaked chardonnay you have.” 

“Great, I’ll come back with your wine in a moment.” 

Triss tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and Yennefer tries to not stare. “I feel bad making you eat two dinners.”

“This is actually my first dinner. I was originally going to eat leftovers.”

“Oh? How did you see me then?”

Yennefer jerks her thumb towards the bar area behind her. “I was getting an after work drink. Priscilla, the bartender, mentioned you were sitting here.”

Triss looks down, sniffling. Her hand curls slightly on the table. Yennefer thinks to reach for her again, but keeps her hands in her lap. “Great, I look like a fool. I still haven’t heard back for Lambert. I guess he’s officially not coming.”

“Even if he does show, I’m not giving up my seat,” Yennefer says. “He forfeited this time spent in the company of a beautiful woman.”

A pink flush covers Triss’ neck, spreading up to her cheeks. Yennefer likes the sight and vows to make the woman blush at least once or twice more before their night ends. “I guess I’m lucky then. Lambert was cute. But you’re absolutely stunning.” She turns even redder at the admission, quickly averting her eyes. “Sorry I don’t mean to make this any more awkward than it is.” 

Yennefer steeples her fingers together, props her chin on top and grins at Triss. “First dates are often uncomfortable. But you’ll find I respond quite well to compliments. In fact, I have many hidden up my sleeves. Though I’ll spread them out over this night.” Yennefer is shocked by how easily she flirts with the redhead. She is a gifted orator. Many lawyers are. But it’s been years since she last spoke in a forward manner. Though it brings her great pleasure to see how they affect Triss, causing her to turn even redder so that the color on her face was a near match to the shade of her hair.

The waitress returns with their bottle of wine and two long stemmed glasses. She quickly pours a healthy serving for the woman and shuffles off. They make small talk, typical for any first date, as they wait for their food. Yennefer learns that Triss is from a small town about a ten hour drive from Novigrad. She works as a nurse for the general hospital. (“Currently I’m in the Pediatrics Department, though I’ll likely rotate to another department soon.”) She lives in a small two-bedroom apartment on the lower end of town and has one roommate, named Sabrina. She’s an only child and her parents live the retired life. 

Yennefer divulges too. She talks of her work as one of the assistant county attorneys. She mentions her amatuer interest in deep sea diving and boating. She talks about Ciri briefly before quickly moving on from the subject to avoid talking about Geralt and the dissolution of their marriage. Estranged from her own parents, Yennefer finds the typical conversation about family is difficult, choking her up at some points. 

“It’s okay, we can talk about something else,” Triss says. She places her hand on top of Yennefer’s and the dark haired woman fights against the desire to shut her eyes and revel in that soft warmth. But their food arrives then and they pull apart. 

“Do you like practicing law?”

“Only when I win,” Yennefer admits. Triss chuckles into her glass, finishing what little wine sits in the glass. Yennefer refills the redhead’s glass. “I’m currently work on violent crimes, except for murder. It’s taxing, both physically and mentally. But it gives me a purpose. And I love ripping through shoddy defenses. Sadly there are some defense attorneys who see me enter the courtroom and think they can trounce over me. But during the course of the trial, their smirks give way to utter dismay.” 

“That sounds exciting. I wish I could see you in action.”

“You can,” Yennefer says. She cuts into her salmon, breaking off a piece to eat. “Most proceedings are open to the public.”

Triss ducks her head, that shy smile back in place as the color rises in her cheeks. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to distract you.”

“I won’t balk at a distraction in the courtroom. Especially if it’s a captivating one.”

She expects Triss to walk back her comment or play it off as a silly fascination. But instead the redhead looks directly in her eyes, the blush on her face deepening. “Okay. I’ll be sure to wear my best dress then.”

Yennefer nearly chokes on the piece of salmon sliding down her throat and reaches for her drink. An image of Triss all dressed up and sitting upright in one of the courtroom pews flashes in her mind unbidden. She blames the next few images on the wine and earlier liquor running through her system. But she sees herself leading Triss back to her private office after winning another case. The endorphins pump through her and there’s a cheeky grin on her face as her coworkers gape at her and the redhead as they slip into Yennefer’s office. And she pictures Triss stretched out across the top of her desk or straddling her on the small leather sofa, their lips locked together as they begin to strip. Yennefer reins in her thoughts then, knowing she’s just as red as the woman across from her. 

“Can I admit something?” Triss asks. Yennefer nods quietly, still trying to get a handle on her salacious thoughts. “I’m having a lot of fun. I enjoy your company.”

“I’m having fun too.”

Triss fiddles with the necklace she wears, running the charm across the chain as she thinks. “I felt horrible when I realized Lambert wasn’t going to come. Before you showed up, I was actually planning to leave and barricade myself in my room for the rest of the weekend. And I knew people were whispering around me. I wanted to cry, but I didn’t want to do it in a room full of strangers. I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you for making me feel a little less crappy. You’re a great replacement date.” 

Yennefer feels that ache in her chest. She wants to reach across the table and capture Triss’ lips in a short, sweet kiss. She’s hit with the desire to wrap this near stranger up in her arms and never let her go. She wants to escort Triss home and go on a search for this ‘Lambert’ who had the audacity to make the redhead feel so dejected. 

But most importantly, she wants to remain connected to Triss in some way. The newness of their connection makes it easy for Yennefer to speak openly about herself. She wants to pour herself into Triss and absorb whatever Triss offers in return. She shut herself away after the pain of her divorce and the affair that led her to file the paperwork initially. Sitting here across from Triss has made Yennefer feel seen in a way that she hasn’t experienced in years. 

Running her tongue along her lips, Yennefer searches for the right words. “I’ll happily be the replacement date whenever you need it.”

Triss chuckles, a soft sweet note that sends a shiver down Yennefer’s spine. She looks up, gazing at Yennefer with half-lidded eyes and playfully taps at her foot under the table. “I’m hoping there won’t be a need for that again.”

They share a small dessert, a chocolate molten cake with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Yennefer pays for the entire meal, after a quick argument with Triss. (“As the replacement date, it’s my _duty_ to cover the bill. I told you, I intend to make you forget about that man!”) Triss’ huff melts away when they rise to leave and Yennefer places a delicate hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards the exit. The excitement and good cheer from their meal bursts abruptly as they face each other on the sidewalk. Triss takes a step back and looks out the side of her eye towards the road. Once it again, they’re two strangers and the awkwardness of that fact engulfs both women. 

“I’ll catch a cab home,” Triss offers. 

“My car is just around the corner. I can give you a lift.”

“I don’t want to be any more of an inconvenience tonight.”

Deciding to continue with her bold streak, she touches Triss’ arm and keeps her hand in place until the redhead looks at her. “You would be the furthest thing from that. Please. It’s not trouble at all.” 

Triss opens her mouth to argue further. But stops and fixates on Yennefer. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but you have beautiful eyes.”

“So do you,” she responds. “Will you let me take you home?”

Triss nods slowly and hugs the arm Yennefer offers. The dark haired woman is filled with a sense of pride as Triss openly admires her car. She opens the passenger door with a smile to let Triss slide into the seat. She hopes her date doesn’t notice the spring in her step as she rushes to the driver’s side. 

“I don’t usually have sex on the first date,” Triss blurts out as soon as Yennefer has settled in her seat. Her eyes widen at her admission and she pointedly avoids Yennefer’s curious look. The thought crossed her mind several times over the course of their meal. But she wasn’t going to bring it up for fear that it would embarrass Triss to the point where she may pass out. And she can see that the admission makes Triss go red in the face.

“Do you kiss on the first date?”

“...Depends.”

There’s a glint in her dark blue eyes that doesn’t go unnoticed by Triss. “Just so you know, I have a high success rate in the courtroom. I may not always like my job, but I’m _very_ good at arguing cases.”

“Just drive Yenna,” Triss says, playfully rolling her eyes. 

“Yenna?”

“Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries or anything. I just thought…”

“It’s fine,” she says, touching Triss’ knee. They both shiver at the contact, but neither makes an effort to move. “I like it.” Now that they’re no longer seated at the table, with their legs hidden under the white cloth, Yennefer can see that Triss’ blush spreads across her entire body. Again she wonders just how red she can make the other woman appear as she backs out the parking spot. Her hand stays on Triss’ knee as they ride. At some point, she curls it around the woman’s leg, cupping her inner thigh. Again both women react, Triss inhaling sharply through gritted teeth, while Yennefer feels her pulse quicken. 

She follows Triss’ direction, keeping her inner thoughts as innocent as possible. Eventually they roll to a stop in front of a multi-level brick building. Lights are on in nearly every window and some apartments even leave their windows cracked to let fresh air in. Yennefer kills the engine and shoots out the driver's door before Triss can even utter an argument. She holds out her hand, absolutely thrilled when Triss takes it and climbs out the car. Her heart races in her chest, the blood pumping loudly in her ears. They face each other on the sidewalk. Slowly, their fingers lace together as they both step closer. They exist in the same bubble with only a hair’s distance separating them. Yennefer can smell the wine on Triss’ breath, can see the slow shifting of muscles working in her jaw and neck as the redhead gulps, can almost hear the woman’s thoughts warp and twist into one singular focus. 

“I…” Triss’ green eyes flicker down, skim over Yennefer’s full lips that are parted ever so slightly. When she looks back at Yennefer’s eyes, there is a burning resolve in those green irises. She gulps again. Releases a shaky breath. “I’d really like to kiss you Yenna.” 

“I’d like that as well.”

Triss tilts her head up and towards the side, her nose ghosting by Yennefer’s as their lips connect. Hating the miniscule distance between them, Yennefer takes her free hand, grasps her date’s hip and pulls her closer until their bodies are flush. She has forgotten how nice it feels to be held against another, how warm an extra body feels on a chilly night. And she melts into the softness of Triss, giving herself to the sweetness of the other woman. Triss is far different than Geralt. Yennefer feels she can cry, which is absurd. But this is the first she’s been kissed since her divorce and she admits this gentle attention is enchanting.

Triss nips at her bottom lip before pulling back with a smile. She wraps her arm around the back of Yennefer’s neck, hugging her. 

“So what’s your argument for _not_ sleeping with me tonight?” Yennefer asks, grinning. “Because I already have a rebuttal.”

“I have none,” Triss admits, leaning in for another kiss, this one more chaste than the previous one. 

“Good. I have no objections either, Your Honor.”

“You’re such a nerd. Come on.” 

They take one step towards the building just as a loud moan slices through the silent night. Yennefer smirks, raises an eyebrow. “Triss I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“Hush. That wasn’t me,” she sputters. She scans the building, humming in contemplation before sucking her teeth. “Damn. My roommate is here.”

“Pity. We’ll try our best to be quiet.” Yennefer presses herself against Triss’ back and peppers kisses down her neck. Triss squirms before remembering herself and swats at the other woman. 

“No, that’s not why I’m worried.”

There’s another obscene moan followed by a needy declaration for more. Yennefer hears the rhythmic squeak of a mattress and the slap of a headboard meeting the wall. Triss spins to face her date. “Wait here,” she whispers. “I’ll run up, get some clothes and run back out. Is it okay if we go back to your place? O-or we can get a hotel if that’s…”

“My place is fine. And a bit more sound-proof. Go on. I’ll be here.” She pulls Triss in for a heated kiss that causes the other woman to gasp ‘gods’ when they pull away. Yennefer leans against the side of her car, folding her arms across her chest as she watches Triss slip inside and climb the main set of stairs. 

Now alone, her bravado slips and gives way to a creeping sense of anxiety. What the hell is she doing? It was fun pretending in the restaurant and Triss is genuinely great company. When she parked in front of Triss’ apartment building, she expected a sweet, innocent kiss and a promise to see each other again. But her hormones kicked in and she wanted more of Triss. She didn’t want this night to end after a ‘romantic novel’ style kiss. 

She’s not afraid to sleep with the woman. Yennefer had a brief affair with her law school professor after she graduated and it was safe for them to act on the thick sexual tension between them. But her last sexual partner was Geralt. And while they were always compatible in the bedroom, the last time they touched each other was nearly two years ago! (Finding her husband’s cock buried deep in his assistant had a way of turning Yennefer off to the idea of sharing herself sexually with others.) Yennefer doesn’t want to make a fool of herself and yet she doesn’t want to leave Triss unsatisfied. 

Yennefer is snapped out of her thoughts when she hears a breathy voice call Triss’ name. “How was the date?”

She doesn’t hear Triss’ response, but whatever she says incites her roommate. “He what?! Wait! Why are you just _now_ returning?”

More silence as Triss again responds. 

“A stranger! Triss!” 

Yennefer hides her smile behind her hand. A window on the fifth floor shoots up and a woman with dark eyes and dark red hair appears, staring down at the street. She’s topless, baring her breasts at Yennefer, though that doesn’t seem to bother her in the slightest. “Who are you? What are you going to do with my roommate? And why haven’t I heard of you before?”

“I’m Yennefer Vengerburg, Triss’s replacement date for the evening. I’m hoping to take her to my place to finish our night much in the same way you are enjoying your night with whomever is currently occupying your bed. And well I met Triss at the restaurant and wanted to make her feel better, so that’s why you haven’t heard of me before tonight.”

“You’re not a murderer are you?”

“No. A lawyer.”

The woman raises an eyebrow and cups her chin. Triss bustles out the door, hugging a small duffle bag to her chest. She takes one look at the amused expression on Yenenfer’s face and follows her gaze up to the fifth floor window. Her eyes nearly bulge from their sockets as she takes in her roommate’s bareness. “S-s-sabrina! Gods! Throw on a shirt!”

“Why?” the woman named Sabrina asks. “She’s going to see your tits in a bit. I’m just warming her up.” 

“Please get in the car before I die from embarrassment,” Triss says to Yennefer. The dark haired woman opens the passenger door, biting back her chuckles. 

“Take good care of my roommate Yennefer.”

“I plan to. May I ask what round you and your partner are on?”

“Three. Got at least three or four more rounds in us.”

Yennefer hums and peers into the car. “We have to top that.”

“We will, I promise. Just **_please_ ** get in the car Yenna.”

Sabrina leans further out the window. “Triss she’s hot! I’m proud of you! You better not come back until Sunday. It was nice meeting you Yennefer.”

“Nice meeting you as well,” she says, giving in to Triss tugging on her wrist. She pulls away from the curb towards her apartment on the other side of Novigrad. Triss sits with her face buried in her hands. Her ears are brighter than Yennefer has seen them all night. 

“I’m so mortified.” 

Moving slowly to not startle Triss, Yennefer reaches over and cups her inner thigh once more, squeezing it once. “Don’t be. She seems like a riot. And if I may be bold, your tits are much better than hers.” 

Triss lifts her head, chuckling and still very red in the face. “You haven’t even seen them.”

“Yet.” She makes a right, taking the ramp down to the highway that cuts through the city. “You really think they’ll reach seven rounds?”

“No. Sabrina likes to exaggerate. She and Ida will break into a heated argument eventually. Especially after her little display just now. Besides, she doesn’t have the best stamina.”

“Hm. And you do?”

Triss looks her up and down. The air is suddenly stifling and charged. From the corner of her eye, she sees Triss chew her bottom lip. “Yes,” she whispers. “I do.” 

Yennefer presses on the gas, speeding to her high-end apartment and zipping down into the garage. Triss is on her before she can pull the key from the ignition. Her kisses are searing, causing Yennefer to groan. All of Yennefer’s doubts or fears are immediately silenced as Triss climbs over the central console and settles in her lap. She grips Yennefer’s wrist, slides it up her inner thigh. Both women hiss from the heat that radiates underneath her dress. Yennefer’s fingers graze across lacy underwear, a moan ripping through her as she feels a small patch of wetness. Triss palms her breasts over top her silk blouse, continuing to kiss her neck and jaw. 

Yennefer’s sure it’s against first date protocol to have sex in a car. She doesn’t care and she suspects Triss feels similarly. She needs to touch Triss. Needs to hear her moans. Needs to feel Triss’ inner walls gripping her fingers as she rides Yennefer’s hand to an orgasm. 

Reaching blindly for the seat controls, Yennefer lowers the chair's back to give her a better angle and more room. She pushes her date’s underwear to the side, runs two fingers along the slick lower lips. 

“Yes,” Triss whispers against her mouth, a needy answer to Yennefer’s unspoken question. They both swear as her fingers enter with little resistance. The car’s windows are foggy from their heavy pants, the air smelling of wine and sex. Yennefer waits for Triss to adjust, not moving her fingers until the redhead slowly rolls her hips. Triss shudders and collapses against Yennefer as the woman hooks her fingers and flicks her wrist back and forth, meeting Triss’ hips thrust for thrust. 

The car shakes as they both increase the speed of their movements. Triss breathes into Yennefer’s mouth, her eyes squeezed shut, the stray strands of red hair sticking to her sweaty skin. The dark haired woman is fascinated by her date. Her free hand lays flat against Triss’ back, riding the wave made by the roll of her hips. Wetness drips down Triss’ thighs, covering Yennefer’s wrist and forearms. Her own arousal mounts as she thinks about tasting the other woman. And Triss is LOUD! Her moans much more erotic and obscene than those made by Sabrina. She chants Yennefer’s name like a spell that breathes new life. Her hands dig into Yennefer’s shoulders, leaving wrinkles in the delicate blouse. But Yennefer doesn’t care. All she cares about is…

“Oh fuck! Y-yenna. I’m cumming.”

That! She cares about Triss’ pleasure and the way her inner walls ripple and tighten, keeping Yennefer’s fingers in a vice as she hits the peak. She goes rigid on top of Yennefer, her mouth falling open as she releases one final moan that surely echoes outside the car. Triss releases a string of curses which exacerbates Yennefer’s own desire. When Triss is done and manages to crack open an eye, Yennefer slowly pulls back her hand and looks at the wetness that covers her entire hand. 

“Sorry,” Triss whispers, her voice hoarse, dry and still breathless. “I made such a mess.”

“Do not apologize for that. I’m sorry I lacked the self-control to make it up to my apartment.”

“I think we’re both guilty there.”

Yennefer takes one of her fingers in her mouth, swirling her tongue and lapping up the tangy, but sweet taste that is Triss. “Best thing I’ve tasted all night.”

Triss growls, draws her in for another heated kiss. “One down. Six to go.”

Scrambling out of the car and to the elevator, they wrap themselves around the other, kissing with such fervent hunger. She touches Triss over and under her dress, fighting against the desire to just rip the fabric from her date’s body. It’s late at night and thankfully most people are asleep. But Yennefer doubts she’d even peel herself away in the elevator stops for another person. 

Triss’ overnight bag sits on the elevator’s floor and in their excitement, they nearly forget it. Yennefer lunges for it as the doors slide to a close and slings it over her shoulder. Her apartment is at the far end of the hallway, a corner unit with impressive views of the city stretched out before her. But she has no intention of showing that to Triss tonight.

“You’ll get the tour in the morning,” Yennefer says in a low growl, carting Triss off to her bedroom. 

“No complaints from me, dear.”

Once again, the overnight bag is thrown to a corner, quickly forgotten as the women begin to strip each other of their clothes. It happens quickly, leaving Yennefer little time to mentally prepare for the sight that awaits her once Triss is free of her dress. 

“Oh you are glorious,” she breathes. Wearing matching lacy panties and bra the color of a brilliant turquoise gem, Triss is nothing but smooth planes and soft curves. The (adorable) freckles that dot the bridge of her nose and cheeks, appear on her stomach and thighs. Yennefer openly admires her, her mouth watering as she picks out the places where she intends to run her tongue across or scratch at lightly with her nails. Squinting, she spots faint scars along Triss’ breast. A pale pink, they almost blend in with her skin, so old that Yennefer guesses she acquired them years ago. She lifts a hand, touching them, tracing a delicate finger along one of the lines. 

“What happened?”

Triss looks down, shaking her head as if to dislodge a nasty thought. “A story for another day.”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you.” Triss smirks and captures Yennefer’s exploratory hand with her own. “You’ve tasted me. I wish to do the same.” 

Yennefer is surprised by the redhead’s strength as she’s thrown onto her king-sized bed. Once again Triss straddles her, smiling down at her with a devious glint in her green eyes. Yennefer gulps, struck by the realization that she quite enjoys having the redhead’s weight bearing down on her lap. Pulling her hair free of her twin buns, Triss sets the hair ties on one of the nightstands and collects Yennefer’s wrists in one hand.

“I have nothing to restrain you with,” the redhead whispers, bringing her face close to Yennefer’s. “So try to be a good girl and keep your hands to yourself.” 

A violent flush runs down Yennefer’s neck to her cleavage and she shudders from the pleasant warmth she feels. Triss lifts a neatly trimmed eyebrow, her smirk deepening. 

“You like it when I call you a ‘good girl’?” It’s practically a soft purr. 

Yennefer nods, wordlessly. 

Triss stretches the dark haired woman’s arms above her head, before lowering her entire body to cover Yennefer’s. She kisses her on the lips, breaking it and stealing Yennefer’s breath in the process. “You’re such a good girl. So good to me at dinner.” She kisses her neck, biting down on it on a spot before running her tongue across to soothe the pain. Yennefer starts to reach for her, but stops as she recalls Triss’ words. The redhead sits upright, pressing her palms into Yennefer’s stomach. She flips her hair over my shoulder and rolls her hips, grinding down into the other woman’s lap. “Let me be good to you Yenna.” 

“O-okay.”

Triss dives in again, biting down on Yennefer’s bottom lip before sliding down her body. Her fingers work at Yennefer’s bra clasp, unhooking the latches in seconds before tearing it from her body. She makes a slow show of removing her own bra, her hips continuing to roll against the other woman’s. And Yennefer is enraptured by this stunning display. A whimper that scratches the back of her throat comes out of her as Triss peels her arm away, letting her bra slide off her body to reveal her breasts. She was right. Triss’ breasts are far better than Sabrina’s. (Though it was never really a competition.)

The redhead lowers down again, breathing onto Yennefer’s left breast before taking the nipple into her mouth. 

“Ah fuck.” Her eyes flutter shut and she fists the quilt they’re on as Triss runs her tongue around the sensitive skin, while sucking on the small bud until it’s erect. She releases it with a loud _pop_ and in a flash takes the other nipple into her mouth, paying equal attention until it's hard. 

Yennefer tries not to think about her past lovers. She doesn’t want those experiences to weigh down whatever this new relationship will become. But as Triss slowly descends down her body, leaving a wet trail with her kisses and tongue, Yennefer thinks about the first (and only) woman she’s laid with before today. She remembers the frantic way Professor de Vriess kissed her and the control the older woman exhibited as she twisted Yennefer’s body into the exact position she needed her in. She thinks about the illicit, secretive nature of their affair. The empty classrooms and hotel suites where they came together to touch. She remembers yearning for more, expressing that desire only to be shot down and left with an acidic bitterness in her mouth. The relationship with Geralt began on the heels of the dissolution of her affair with Tissaia. And now this _thing_ with Triss comes just as Yennefer feels ready to finally put her failed marriage behind her.

Is this all a mistake?

She blinks and smiles as Triss hovers over her once more. The redhead cups her cheek and Yennefer leans into the touch, nuzzling her nose against the woman’s palm. “Stop thinking,” the redhead whispers. “You helped me forget about that jackass. Let me help you forget about your jackass, whoever they may be.” 

“I’m sorry. I’m here now.”

“Good.” She wedges her knee into between Yennefer’s legs, pushing them apart. “Remember: hands to yourself.”

Yennefer forgets everything else as Triss takes her underwear in her teeth and pulls them off, tossing them over her shoulder. She cups Yennefer’s thighs, pushing them apart and smiles, her eyes flicking up to lock with Yennefer’s. Triss lowers herself onto her elbows, hooking Yennefer’s thighs over her shoulders and runs a lone finger down the glistening lips. She swipes her tongue up and Yennefer fists the sheets so tight, she fears they may tear. And oh is she glad Triss made an exception to her ‘no sex on the first date’ rule. The woman is beyond skilled. Her tongue parts Yenenfer’s folds, teasing her entrance before running up to swirl around her clit. And her fingers refuse to remain idle for long. They run along her inner thighs, press into her entrance, lightly pinch at her clit. 

Yennefer experiences so many sensations, it’s almost overwhelming. Her hips roll and grind into Triss’ face. Her moans fill the room. She wants to thread her fingers through those fiery locks. But she’s desperate to hear Triss compliment her, the idea pleasing her so much she shudders and sighs. She arches off the bed as her lover slips two fingers inside. She was on edge before they even reached her apartment, but she knows she’ll reach her high with just a few thrusts. 

“Oh you look so fucking good like this,” Triss says when she comes up for air. “So red. So needy. So incredibly beautiful.”

Yennefer continues to grind down on Triss’ fingers. 

“Be a good girl and come for me. I want to see what you look like coming apart.”

That pushes her over the edge. Her orgasmn hits her suddenly with tremendous force sending her higher off the bed. But Triss presses down on her hips, keeping her in place so she can meet Triss’ fingers thrust for thrust. And the redhead drags out her euphoria, pressing the pad of her thumb into Yennefer’s clit, sending sweet sparks up and down her core. 

She collapses on the bed, sweaty, gasping for air, very nearly spent for the night. Triss withdraws her fingers and Yennefer feels the bed shift as the redhead climbs off it and opens a window. Before the dark haired woman can ask, Triss is back at her side, kissing lightly along her jaw towards her lips. Yennefer moans from the taste of herself that lingers on the redhead’s lips. 

“Two down,” Triss says with a teasing lilt to her voice. “Five more to go. Unless you’re tired.”

“No,” Yennefer says, shaking her head. “Just need to catch my breath. That was a lot more than I expected.”

“Was it too much? I’m sorry if it was.”

“No it was perfect.” Yennefer rolls to her side, tosses a heavy arm over Triss’ hip and pulls her closer. “It’s been a while since I was last intimate with another person.”

“I’m honored you chose me.” Triss curls into her and they sigh together as they listen to the ambient sounds of a city slowing down for the night. Yennefer runs her hand through Triss’ hair, scratching lightly at the scalp. The redhead blows hot air against the side of her neck as she moans from the affection. 

“My jackass is my husband. Ex-husband,” Yennefer quickly adds when she feels Triss tense next to her. “He cheated on me. I guess I never fully recovered from that betrayal.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. It wasn’t all bad. We have a beautiful daughter together. And we had some fun times during our marriage. But he was an ass and went and slept with an assistant.”

“What a cliche.”

“I know! He could have at least picked our daughter’s teacher or one of the instructors from the gym or some other woman.” She chuckles and lets Triss’ wipes the tears from her eyes. “It’s his loss anyway.”

Triss brushes her hand down Yennefer’s hip, her fingers curling and pressing lightly in her skin. “Yes, it is.” She rises up, captures Yennefer’s lips in a kiss that leads to their round three, which spirals into round four and on and on. They don’t stop until the sun begins to rise over the horizon for the start of a new day. The sky brightens before them, but all Yennefer can focus on is Triss who, once again, is grinding on top of her, riding out her final orgasm on Yennnefer’s hand. She collapses into Yennefer’s open arms, smiling. 

“I lost count.”

Yennefer runs her down Triss’ back. “We went far beyond seven.”

“Good. Sabrina can tell when I lie to her.”

They settle on their sides facing the bay windows in Yennefer’s bedroom. Triss tucks herself under the other woman’s chin with a long sigh. “I think I’m quite smitten with you Triss.”

“You think or you know?”

“I think,” Yennefer admits. She’s spent the past few hours growing acquainted with Triss’ body and still she finds reasons to marvel at this woman in her arms. “A second date would help solidify things.” 

Triss spins in her arms, staring at her with a sleepy expression. They’re both exhausted. Yennefer is sure she’s been awake for a full twenty-four hours. But she always enjoyed these afterglow moments. Triss traces an imaginary line along her jaw and presses their noses together, fighting off sleep. 

Yennefer **knows** she’s smitten with this woman. When she sat down to dinner that night, she never imagined it would turn out like this. The sex was great. (And gods she looks forward to it once they wake up.) But it was the companionship she truly desired. It was the soft smiles cast in her direction that made her skip a beat or forget about her countless worries. Yennefer believed it would take years for her to launch back into the dating scene. Yet she’s here in bed, cuddled close to a beautiful woman who makes her laugh and feels giddy like she’s a lovestruck teenager. She wants to give her heart to Triss and hears no warning bells that this will end in heartbreak or despair. 

Yennefer sighs, twisting her head ever so slightly as Triss presses her lips against hers. “I’d like a second date,” the redhead whispers, her eyes sliding shut. 

Just before nodding off, Triss speaks one final time. 

“Don’t be late this time.”

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt list is LONG and there are some selections that really interest me. Let's be honest, we can all use some more 'Trissefer' in our lives and I love writing about this pair! I'm even thinking about creating a separate collection of modern Trissefer stories. We'll see!
> 
> But I hope you enjoyed this fluffy, one shot! I hope to come back with another story soon!


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